


Conditions of Acceptance

by Cashmerin



Series: In Consideration of Courtesies Exchanged [2]
Category: Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms
Genre: Engagement, F/M, Political Marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-26
Updated: 2015-11-26
Packaged: 2018-05-03 11:22:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5288840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cashmerin/pseuds/Cashmerin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She had agreed to this months ago. There was no need to give this particular moment such weighty trepidation. Still, abstract consent and formal acceptance did not automatically go hand-in-hand when major life decisions were to be considered.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Conditions of Acceptance

The parcel in Luvia's hands was small, she thought. About the size of a gourmet box of chocolates. The red silken ribbon wrapped around it, complete with wax seal and monogrammed initials, seemed a little excessive. She turned it over in her hands. There was no outward hint as to what it may be, but she could guess. There were very few things that warranted plastering the El-Melloi crest on them as many times as humanly possible. 

She slid her finger underneath the seal, popping it upwards. A small portion of the corner tore off in the process and gripped the dangling ribbon to the lid. Luvia's lips twisted in rueful consideration. If this box contained what she thought, this was a moment of decision. 

A quiet huff of laughter. She was being silly, of course. Although she had not herself initiated these talks, she had certainly participated in them more actively than the presumed sender of this package. She had agreed to this months ago. There was no need to give this particular moment such weighty trepidation. 

Still...

She settled back into the loveseat positioned by the large window in her bedroom suite. If only the package had contained chocolates. It would have been a far more pleasant way to pass the morning, with the bustling London streets within her view and the plush cushions embracing her. _Oh well,_ she thought. Time to get this over with. 

She delicately lifted the lid and set it next to her. Nestled inside was a small black velvet box with a fat letter tucked underneath. Luvia tilted the parcel slightly from side to side, pursing her lips. Her inner jewel mage was itching to see what could only be the diamond awaiting her; the aristocrat in her knew it was better to review the letter before swaying her opinion with dazzling rocks. 

Following her better judgment, she opted to peruse the missive. Her legs unfurled and swooped over the edge of the loveseat as she stood to retrieve a letter opener from her desk across the room. She slid the golden blade carefully under the flap, taking care not to catch any of the contents as she tugged outwards to tear the edge of the envelope. 

The letter, it appeared, was only a single page. The rest of the contents were various enclosures; a formal contract, a Terms and Conditions, various documents that seemed to serve as some kind of addendum prenuptial agreement. Luvia snorted. It was just like him. Terms and Conditions? What nonsense. Of course there would be terms and conditions to the arrangement, but to lay it out so exhaustively in writing seemed so... plebian. 

_This is the world of aristocracy, Professor,_ she mentally tutted. _We honor our Gentleman's Agreements._

Her eyes skimmed the pages. She flipped forward, then back. Certain phrases caught her eye more than others, but all in all, it seemed like a pretty standard formal agreement. Something something, date by which to reply, something something, fiscal co-operation, blah blah blah, in the event of death, something s--- her eyes leapt back. Death? Oh. Widow/er[s] clauses. Nevermind. 

She had to admit, the formal contract route could be amusing. Some of these sections and caveats seemed almost apocalyptic in probability. She wondered if he drafted the whole thing himself or if the entire El-Melloi legal team had worked to produce the ironclad document. Knowing the sender, either was possible. 

She wandered back to the window where the velvet box continued to rest patiently within the larger, monogrammed one. Her eyes flicked from the paperwork in her hands to the tiny shape. When negotiations were nearing completion, she had anticipated that this was coming. She couldn't say she'd been envisioning it like some schoolgirl dreaming about the perfect proposal. She hadn't. It was simply something she knew was looming, and she accepted that any day she was going to end up having a very awkward conversation with her pensive former professor. What she had not anticipated was this... what could she even call this? Display of interpersonal distancing, perhaps. 

_What a ninny,_ she thought. She didn't want the awkward conversation any more than he did, but this seemed cowardly.

She set the thick packet of papers on the seat cushion as her long fingers reached for the accompanying gift. 

She surveyed the box quality. One could often tell the quality of jewelry concealed within by the presentation materials. This one seemed to use real velvet, stitched together carefully along the corner edges, and tucked somewhere on the inside rather than showing tacky glue points on the bottom. The edges where the top and bottom met were accentuated with twin silver bands for a polished, sleek finish. Even the hinges seemed to gleam with careful construction. 

_Good,_ she nodded to herself approvingly. A proud jeweler. 

She cradled the box carefully between both hands. Her thumbs worked together to nudge the hinges up and open. Her eyes widened.

Inside, an impressive diamond caught and refracted the light from the window onto her gloves, her dress, and the plush fabric cushioning it in place. Luvia bit her lip. Did he pick this out?

No, she scolded herself. Probably not. And anyway, shimmering light did not mean much. She would reserve her excitement until she confirmed authenticity and specifications. One hand remained grasping the tiny box while the other picked up the letter and various enclosures. Hitching up hem of her dress, she lightly pranced over to her desk again. Two drawers down held her jeweler's loupe. The loupe retrieved, she laid the contract aside and set about determining the ring's credentials. 

The most easily identifiable trait, the metal and karat weight, were cleanly marked toward the top of the setting. Eighteen karats, white gold. It was a good start, Luvia thought. Whoever chose it had taste. The setting gracefully swooped upward to encase the stone into a pocket. Each side had two cutout laurel leaf designs curving upward as though presenting the diamond to the viewer. On either side of the top prongs holding the diamond in place, gentle grooves housing diamond-mimicking gold nubs added texture to the band without the worry of losing tinier stones from regular wear. A conscientious decision for the discerning mage. 

_Reines,_ Luvia realized. _It was probably chosen by Reines._

She moved her attention to the jewel itself. It was always difficult evaluating a stone already in a setting. This one had eight prongs delicately wrapped around a non-standard cut; it looked old European, which utilized a different method with different facet counts than modern laser-cut stones. Still, she couldn't complain. It was a treat to work with unusual and antique gems. 

Color was excellent, she thought. Somewhere in the ‘colorless’ range between D and F. Clarity, too. VVS2. She'd have preferred VVS1, of course-- fewer inclusions meant better energy flow all around, even if you weren't using it as a functional magecraft gem-- but she supposed you can't have everything. The table, girdle, and cutlet ratios, from what she could tell, graded the overall cut of the diamond somewhere between very good and ideal. All things considered, she estimated a total carat weight of a little over two carats; absolutely no less than one-point-seven-five, but no more than two-point-four. She nodded to herself in satisfaction. Apparently they took this offer very seriously.

She removed her left glove and slid the ring on her finger, extending her forearm to survey the effect. Rainbows danced this way and that as tiny flicks of her hand caught light on the multitudes of surfaces. A dreamy sigh escaped Luvia's lips. 

Reality settled back in as she glanced down at the black velvet guiltily. It was a conditional gift, after all, not an extravagant romantic gesture. If she wanted to keep it, she’d need to sign on several dotted lines. But was a ring really a good enough reason to consent to a lifelong partnership? Her eyes trailed to the bold El-Melloi letterhead before her. 

Idly, it occurred to her that in her perusal of materials, she hadn’t actually read the cover letter. If he took the time to write it, she may as well give him a chance to state his own case before she decided to call off the match and waste months of back-and-forth correspondences. She slid the ring from her finger, setting it reverently back in its case, and lifted the single sheet of soft manila linen paper. 

_To the Head of House Edelfelt,_ it began, neatly typed in an old letterpress font. _In consideration of recent talks to consolidate alliances, enclosed please find…_

The rest of the letter was equally dry and impersonal. It directed her to review the enclosed contract and subsequent supporting documentation, and return with formal confirmation or rejection of previously agreed-upon terms of the arrangement. There were no personal appeals or indication as to the writer’s own disposition towards the proposal. It was a short three paragraphs with little substance to sway her decision in either direction. 

She was about to pack up the ring, sign the rejection waiver, and direct her courier to return the package when something about the letter tugged at the back of her mind. She skimmed it again, eyes landing on the signature. 

_Waver Velvet._

For all the care he’d taken to officially propose in the name of El-Melloi, he’d suffered a slip of persona in this last detail. She’d seen his signature many times, both as Lord El-Melloi II and as the respected professor Waver Velvet. His handwriting was always sure and quick. 

But here… the writing seemed rushed and wobbled a bit on the last two letters. The kind of writing you expect from a man too nervous to think much about what he was doing, or remember to sign in formal capacity rather than use his own name. A man who was potentially doubting the path he was embarking upon. 

A man to whom, in this one regard, she could most assuredly relate. 

Luvia slipped the rejection waiver into the waste bin near her feet and thumbed through the rest of the packet to locate the appropriate signature pages. Her family proposed this allegiance, after all, and if he could go through with it as a third party caught up in strange twists of fate, so could she. She wouldn’t allow herself to be outdone by a mere third generation mage. Even if that third generation mage _had_ managed to become Lord El-Melloi II. 

And, while she was at it, she thought she should let him know how ridiculous she found his little formality display. She reached for her personal stationary, spritzed it tauntingly with perfume, and wrote him a little note of her own.

 _Charming letter, Professor,_ she scrawled neatly.

For extra measure, she signed only with a large, meticulously flourished “L”. 

**Author's Note:**

> For anyone wondering or concerned, Luvia is about 25 at this point. She's an adult capable of making her own mature, rational decisions about something like this.


End file.
